Best Kept Secret (Rochester Trilogy 3)

I don’t know what to say. My lungs feel frozen now. I didn’t realize she knew how I felt about Rhys. Shit. If she knows I was scared of him, she might have understood much more than I knew. My instinct is to shush her, to brush it off, to tell her we won’t talk about it. But she knows. She was there.

“I’m not still scared of him,” I say carefully. “He’s gone now. He died, and he’s not coming back.”

“Because he made you cry.”

“No, that’s—that’s not why he’s gone. There was an accident.” The accident was my brother going out of his mind, but that hardly seems age-appropriate to tell Paige. “He died because of the accident. It’s also true that Daddy was not a good man, and he did hurt Mommy.”

“I saw him doing that.”

Damn you, Rhys.

“Beau’s grumpy,” Paige says into the new silence. “He can’t make grilled cheese, but Jane can, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“I don’t?”

“No.” She yawns. “We’re going to have so much fun together. We can go to the beach and build sandcastles. And if you get hungry, Jane can make you a grilled cheese.”

Shit. Beau and Jane have built a family for Paige. Not just a temporary shelter, but a real family. She expects them to be there for her.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not like grilled cheese?”

“I love grilled cheese.” Actually I haven’t thought about grilled cheese in months. I would only ever make it for Paige and eat the crusts she didn’t want.

“Do you like our kitten?”

“The kitten’s very cute.”

Paige is growing heavy against my side. When she was first outgrowing her crib and moving to a bigger bed, it was impossible for her to sleep alone. I spent lots of nights waiting for her to fall asleep. We’d read book after book, and she would close her eyes, but then she’d pop back up again and tell me something else.

I never wanted to leave her room afterward. Or—really, I wanted to leave her room and go outside to a peaceful home. One where my volatile husband wasn’t downstairs in his office, waiting for me. I’d lie in bed next to Paige and daydream about reading a book in my own bed until my eyes closed. Waking up to a quiet house before it was time to take her to school. It never seemed possible while Rhys was alive. I knew he’d make a divorce ugly and probably dangerous. He’d spend his money to ruin me, and there would be no explaining it to Paige.

So I stayed.

I waited until she fell asleep.

And then I went downstairs and tried to keep him in a good mood.

“I’m allergic to shellfish,” Paige murmurs sleepily.

“I know,” I tell her. “You always got a rash.”

She doesn’t answer. My daughter is asleep now. I’m wide awake. In the darkness of her room, I look at the outline of the window and worry. I’m too tired to be awake, but now my mind is racing like my heart.

I left Paige behind to keep her safe. What if that’s the answer now? All over again? What if the best place for her is with Beau and Jane, who are in love and love her back? It would be more certain than a life with me. I’m always going to be the woman who faked her death and went into hiding and, yes, abandoned her daughter to do it.

Paige stirs and I wrap my arms around her and shift her closer. It hurts as much now as it did when I first left her. Picturing it again makes my throat ache with unshed tears.

I would do it. I would let her have her life here, if that would be better. I have to admit that it might be. Tearing her out of her life to be with me is what I want. It’s not necessarily what’s best for her.

When I was pregnant with Paige, other women used to say that having a child was like discovering a whole new kind of love. I never liked that description. I’d loved a lot in my life, and it seemed to cheapen that. They were right, in the end. It’s not like any other love. I’d do anything for Paige. I’d break my own heart. I’d make myself miserable. I’d spend every day aching to see her and forcing myself not to, if that’s what she needed.

I would do it even if it killed me.

“Not tonight,” I whisper to the quiet. I’m not leaving her tonight. Tonight, I’m going to lie next to her in the bed and listen to her breathe. I’m so lucky. We were separated, but it wasn’t permanent. Beau and Jane got her out of the fire. Her little heart is still beating, and still hopeful. It’s all I hear as I fall asleep.